


The Digger in the Vale

by celticwanderer



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Festivals, Forbidden, Lost Love, Rescue, San/san - Freeform, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-20
Updated: 2014-11-20
Packaged: 2018-02-26 08:09:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2644484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celticwanderer/pseuds/celticwanderer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alayne Stone and Robin Arryn are free to attend a celebration in the small village at the bottom of the mountain. A man from her past finds her there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Digger in the Vale

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CalamityBean](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CalamityBean/gifts).



> This one shot is for CalamityBean! Enjoy darling.

Alayne laid in bed, the covers up the her chest. Her room was large but narrow. The ceiling stood so tall it made her feel like she was in a box. Her dyed brown hair was starting to show strands of auburn that were illuminated by the candle next on her nightstand. She played with her hair and smiled, pretending the red bits were her mother coming through, telling her not to give up. By the shadows on the wall, she guessed it was midnight. She had trouble sleeping ever since Petyr pushed her aunt Lysa out of the moon door. Her room had a lock, but only from the outside. She was never locked in, but anyone with a key could come and go as they pleased, and Petyr was the only one with a key. 

The thought of him sneaking into her room late at night when the castle was asleep made her feel uneasy. He would kiss her on the cheek, and tell her how beautiful she was. Pretending she was his bastard born daughter for so long had started to mess with his mind. Sometimes when they were alone, he would act as though he was her father. Other times, he would treat her as if she owed him something. He looked at her with hungry eyes, and kept his hands on her for too long. What he thought were gentle caresses made her skin crawl. She didn't know what was worse. His touch, or Joffrey.

She replayed her time in King's Landing in her mind. From her first night there, when they had a great feast and all looked promising, to the day she escaped. Joffrey and Margery's wedding. She didn't think the rumors about Tyrion were true. He did have Lannister blood, but he was not a monster like the rest of them. He couldn't have killed Joffrey. She wondered where he was now. Mayhaps he traveled to one of the free cities and started a new life. She smiled as she imagined him with all the wine and women he could ever want. She thought of Cersei, and how hard she must've taken Joffrey's death. Her feelings on the King weren't clear. At times, she seemed to love him, she once told Sansa to "Love no one but your children." But there were days when Sansa felt Cersei saw His true evil. The day her real father was executed, Cersei had pleaded for Joffrey not to do it. She wondered why Joffrey turned out the way he was, because he was born out of incest, but then remember how sweet Tommen was and concluded the some people were just born rotten.

There was one man in King's Landing who proved he was on her side. She realized now, looking from the outside in, that his cruel words and harsh demeanor were on purpose. He was trying to make her see the world wasn't what she thought it was. He was trying to teach her the realities she wasn't ready to learn.

Sansa sat up and opened the small drawer in her nightstand. Inside was a book, a black hooped necklace Petyr gave her, a hot bottle for chilly nights, and a white handkerchief with a tiny dab of dried blood. Sandor had given it to her the day he stopped her from sending Joffrey, and herself to a falling death. She took the handkerchief from the drawer and laid back down, holding it close. In that moment, she didn't think of the possibility of falling with him, she just wanted him dead. Now, she wished Sandor let her do it. What kind of life was this? Pretending. Her whole family was dead or missing forever, and she couldn't go home. She was to marry yet another man whom she did not love. She wanted to cry but was too exhausted. Instead, she closed her eyes and thought of a memory she often did before drifting off to sleep.

The sky was illuminated with a bright green haze. The smell of fire and acid stung her nostrils. She watched the battle from the balcony of her chambers. She held the doll her father gave her, after he killed her beloved pet, Lady, and prayed for Stannis to win the fight. She thought she was alone until Sandor's voice rasped behind her. He grabbed her and pushed her onto the bed, pressing his large body on top of her. He held a dagger to her throat and demanded she sing him a song. She opened her mouth and the mother's hymn drifted out naturally. His hold on her softened and although his dagger was still again her skin, she knew he was not going to use it. She put her hand against his cheek, and felt tears streaming down the burned side of his face. When she stopped singing, they stayed in that position. Both silent. The only sounds were their breathing, and the screaming from outside the castle walls. 

The Hound stood quickly, as if realizing what he was doing was wrong. Sansa sat up, her legs dangling over the side of the bed. "I'm going somewhere that isn't burning. North might be. Could be." Sandor whispered. "I could take you with me..." 

Sansa didn't know what to say. If Stannis won, he would let her go home. If she went with Sandor, there's a chance she would die on the way or be killed. So certain in her heart that Stannis would win, she couldn't take the chance. Sandor knelt down on his knees, and took her hands in his. She looked at his blood covered filthy hands surrounding her dainty pale ones. They looked at each other and in that moment, she felt something that she'd never felt before. Her stomach felt light, and her vision fuzzy. It was what the maidens descried feeling in her books, before the prince kissed them. All the fear this man made her feel was gone from her heart. She stared into his grey his and cooed, "You won't hurt me."

Sandor's head went back a bit, and he looked at her as if what she said was obvious. She could see in his eyes he realized that was her answer, for the lust turned to sadness. "No, little bird, I won't hurt you." He said. He stood back up and tore his blood soaked kings guard cloak from his armor. It fell to the floor, and he walked out. 

In her day dreams, Sansa pretended she an after him, yelling "Yes! Yes! Take me with you! I want to leave this place forever." Only she didn't. Her eyes burned with tears and she opened them looking up at the tall ceiling in her narrow room. She cursed herself for being so foolish, for now instead of being free like she thought, she was in a different kind of prison with a different kind of Joffrey. She wondered if her memory of Sandor was tainted with time, or the feelings she had were true. She wished she could see him once more time, and know for certain. She wondered what had become of Sandor Clegane...

The next morning, after breakfast, and Robin's persistent nagging, Petyr decided to allow them to go to the village below the castle. Reena Lansdane was turning 101, making her the oldest woman in the village and there was going to be a big celebration. Guards were accompanying Sansa and Robin, but luckily would keep their distance. Sansa thanked the Gods when Petyr announced he could not join them in the festivities, for he had busniess to attend to. 

As they left he stood by the door, presenting Robin with three gold coins. "By yourself a brand new toy." He awkwardly ruffled the sickly boy's hair. 

As Sansa passed him, he presented her with six golden coins. "Treat yourself sweetling, to something that makes you feel as beautiful as you are." He offered with a devilish grin. He planted a long kiss on her cheek and she gave him a small smile before heading out.

Sansa stuck her head out of the carriage window. The air was crisp. She could feel winter coming in her bones. On the short journey to the center of the village, Robin talked about how he hoped there would be fireworks and jugglers. Sansa smiled. Robin was an odd boy, but very sweet. He meant well, but being raised to close to his mother it was no wonder he was dependent. When Bran was his age, he was off climbing the highest tree in the Godswood and would only come down when his mother called for him after sundown. Sansa missed her little brothers, but they were dead. Her whole family was dead, and she had no idea if Arya and Jon were alive. She prayed they were and one day they'd meet again.

When Sansa stepped out of the carriage she was met with a glorious sight. Colorful streamers were draped crisscrossed above the streets. The smell of freshly cooked meats hung in the air. Young maidens walked around with flowers in their hair. Men circled around two boys with wooden swords cheering them on. There was a band playing a lively tune and little girls danced on their father's feet. How Sansa missed dancing. It was a splendid sight. It wasn't often Sansa got to go to town, especially with out Petyr. Even though she felt as if her heart was broken, she was going to make the most of this day.

"Look, Alayne!" Robin tugged at the bottom of her sleeve and pointed excitedly at a man juggling sticks. He ran over the get a closer view and Sansa followed. He stopped juggeling and Robin let out a "Boo!," which caused the other children to yell with him. The silent juggler held his finger up, telling them to be patient. He took a sip of something and held the sticks in front of him. He spit out his drink onto the sticks and suddenly they were on fire! All those who were watching, including young Robin ooed and awed as the man juggled the flaming sticks. 

Something shiny caught Sansa's eye and she turned to her left. There was a cart with painted bottles filled with perfumes. "I'll be right over there, Robin." She squeezed his arm but he wouldn't let go of her sleeves.

"Don't leave me." He cried.

"I'll just be right there, and the guards are behind you. If we get lost, I'll meet you back at the carriage before sundown and we can watch the fireworks together." She gave him a reassuring smile and he finally let go. Before she left she went up to one of the guards. 

"I am going to the sept to pray and wish to be alone." She looked at him with sad eyes. The guard understood something strange was going on with Littlefinger and his supposed daughter. The guard took pity on her and nodded. Sansa smiled with thanks.

She walked to the cart and started smelling the fragrences. Lavender, vanilla, spiced cinnamon, honeysuckle, and pine. They all smelled so wonderful. Sansa decided she would purchase the lavender. It's what she used to wear in Winterfell and King's Landing. It would make her feel more like Sansa and less like Alayne. She gave the old gypsy woman selling the perfumes two gold coins. As she walked away the woman stopped her.

"Do you believe in psychics child?" The woman spoke.

Sansa turned around. "I...I don't know, I never really thought about it." She answered honestly.

The woman walked closer to her and took her hand. "You have a very strange aura. One that I can't read, but there is something, very strong and clear in your future."

"What is it?" Sansa asked curiously.

The old woman smiled and eyed her coin purse. Sansa was curious, and doubted she'd spend the rest of the coin. She didn't enjoy shopping as much as she used to. She took one more gold coin and gave it to the gypsy woman.

"You will soon be reconnected with someone from a past life." The woman spoke.

Sansa's eyed widened. "Who?" She asked, wanting desperately to know the answer. She reached for her coin purse again but the old woman stopped her.

"Even for more coin I can not give you the answer you seek, child. Like I said, you are a hard one to read. But it will happen. Soon." She bowed before going to another customer.

Sansa stood there, dumbfounded. Who could it be? Excitement took over and she pictured being reunited with Arya or Jon. Her heart dropped when she imagined Cersei Lannister. She doubted she would stray far from her den in Kings Landing. She guessed the most reasonable person she would meet again would be Tyrion Lannister. Mayhaps he would come looking for her. She'd rather be with him than Littlefinger.

A soft hum in the wind took her out of her mind. Deep voices harmonized with each other. Sansa listened carefully. She couldn't understand what they were singing, it must be in a different language. She followed the sound. It led her to the center of the village. A crowd surrounded an ld woman sitting by the fountain. Sansa had never seen anyone so old before. She thought her septa was old, but this woman looked to be twice her age! Sansa figured it must be Reeda. The reason for the celeration. 

In front of the old woman were ten hooded men. They wondeful song came from them. They stood in a line, which would have been straight if it wasn't for the man all the way to the right. He was noticably taller than the other men. He had broad shoulder and seemed out of place for some reason. When they finished their song, the crowd roared with applause. Tears glistened in the old woman's eyes and she smiled. The hooded figure in the center took off his hood and approached the woman. He took her hands in his and gave her a blessing.

"Thank you, Elder Father! What a beautiful song." She exclaimed.

Elder Brother? Sansa had heard that name before. He was the leader of a refuge on the Quiet Isle and supposedly has healing powers. Sansa wondered if it was him keeping Reeda healthy for so long. The crowd dispersed, including the brothers, except one. The tall one stood as still as he had during the song. His gaze was higher now, and he seemed to be looking right at her. Sansa stared, transfixed on the man. He looked...familiar. The way he stood---

A man who had too much to drink bumped into Sansa, almost knocking her down. 

"Beg pardon m'lady." He slurred.

"It's quite alright." Sansa breathed.

He continued laughing with his friends and were off. Sansa looked back to wear the brother had been standing, but he was gone. She searched in all directions, but didn't see him anywhere. A man that tall shouldn't be hard to locate, but she had no luck.

The sun starting setting and Sansa found her way back to Robin who had half his face painted blue, and chocolate smeared on the other side. He looked happy as a clam. 

It was almost time for the fireworks and they took their seats with the others by the fountain. Torches along the streets were lite, sending a warm golden glow through out the village. Sansa and Robin sat under a blanket, impatiently waiting for the show to start. There were dancers performing to music in front of the crowd while they waited. Sansa watched as the men twirled the girls around like they were butterflies. Their dresses followed them as they spun, flames dancing in their hair. It was wonderful. She never wanted this night to end.

"Alayne, I want that melted chocolate drink again." Robin begged.

Sansa looked down at his think face. He looked happy for the first time since his mother died. Mayhaps being here was as good for him as it was for her. She felt her coin purse had a few coins left. "Alright." She said. 

Robin squealed and hugged her. "You're the best big sister ever!"

His words sent a cloud over Sansa. She cared for the boy, but she was not his sister. She could never be. She slipped out of his embrace and let the guards know she'd be back. She walked through the families nestled on the ground and walked down one of the streets. It was quite empty, since everyone was by the fountain.

She spotted the cart that made the drinks Robin spoke of. If I have enough, I'll get myself a lemon cake, she thought. Her mouth watered at that and she quickened her pace but an arm reached out from a small alley way and grabbed her hard. 

She was pushed against a wall and tried to scream and a large hand covered her mouth firmly. Oh gods! Littlefinger! She thought. She squirmed but it was no use the man was too strong. She opened her eyes and had to look up at the size of him, It wasn't Littlefinger... The man wore a hood over his face and smelled of pine and earth. Sansa stared with wide eyes.

"Quiet, girl." A raspy deep voice said.

Sansa's heart almost exploded. She knew that voice. It couldn't be.... 

"I'm going to remove my hand. Do not scream." He commanded.

The fear she had seeped away. He took his hand away from her mouth, but didn't step back. The alley was small and they stayed close to each other. 

"Is it you?" Sansa whispered out loud. She slowly lifted her hands and felt the fabric of his hood between her thumbs ad index fingers. She moved it back, carefully as not to upset him. His chin came into view. Prickly facial hair stuck out from his skin. She kept lifting the hood. Past his full lips. The torches made it hard to see. She looked for the scars, but could only see the left side of his face. She kept lifting. A prominent nose, and then she saw them. His sad eyes, the color of House Stark. Grey and cloudy. They bored into hers. 

"Little bird..." He rasped.

Sansa opened her mouth but no sound came out. She wrapped her arms around him and buried her face in his neck breathing him in. She grabbed at him, making sure he was real, Tears welled up in her eyes and she lost all control. To her surprise, he did the same. She heard him smell her hair. His hands ravaged her back, gabbing her waist, her hair, anything he could.

A couple walked by on the street, but they were so hidden by the alley's darkness, they weren't seen.

Their passionate touching continued, and soon their lips found each other's. Sandor pressed Sansa aginst the wall and they kissed. It was a kiss that seemed to last a thousand winters. They melted into each other, only breaking at the first BOOM of the fireworks. They looked up and saw green lights dance in the sky. Just like the night Blackwater burned, Sansa thought.

They're focus went back on each other. They pressed their foreheads together, catching their breath.

"Please," Sansa whispered. "Take me away from here, Sandor."

"Aye, Littlebird." He groaned and kissed her deeply once more. "I wasn't going to leave with out you again."

He took her hand and they snuck through the streets like shadows. The loud fireworks kept the villagers gaze at the sky and they were able to get out unnoticed. Sansa thought of Robin breifly, but decided she had endured enough. If was time for her to find her own happiness, and she knew it would be possible with Sandor.

They hiked up a small hill on the outskirts of the village. Sandor;s black warhorse, Stranger was tied to a tree, happily munching on the grass below his feet.

Sandor lifted Sansa by her small waist, and she straddled the horse and left out a huff. 

"She's going to be with us a good long while." Sandor softly said to the horse. "You behave yourself in front of the lady."

He smiled up at Sansa before climbing on the horse. She wrapped her hands around his muscled body and breathed him in again. She couldn't stop. He smelled like home.

"Are you ready, Sansa?" He asked, looking back at her.

She pressed her lips against his before answering. "Yes. Let's go home." 

Sandor kicked Stranger's side and they turned around. They never looked back at the village and rode away from the Vale, from Littlefinger, from their pasts, and from the green fireworks, with nothing but their future in front of them.


End file.
